Tommy gets sick

Diary Entry - Day 612

Dear Diary,

Tommy got sick.

It started three days ago with a fever and a bad cough. By yesterday he was completely bedridden — high fever, body aches, no energy. The doctor said it’s a nasty flu and he needs to rest for at least a week.

We’re all losing our minds.

How We’re Reacting

We’ve completely dropped everything else.

Sarah moved into his house temporarily so someone is always with him. The rest of us rotate — two or three of us are there at all times. We’ve been taking shifts cooking for him, giving him medicine, wiping him down when he’s sweaty, and making sure he’s comfortable.

We’re being as gentle and caring as possible. We stroke his hair, kiss his forehead, and speak softly to him. He’s been very weak and sleepy, but he still smiles a little when we fuss over him.

The problem is… we’re all extremely sexually frustrated and emotionally distressed.

We’ve gone from having loud, rough, public sex multiple times a day to… nothing. We can’t do anything with him while he’s this sick. And we’re all feeling it.

Day 2

Mia and I ended up in his bathroom together, desperately making out and fingering each other while trying to stay quiet so we didn’t disturb him. It wasn’t the same. We both cried after we came.

Day 3

Lauren admitted she’s been edging in her car before coming over because being around him without being able to touch him sexually is driving her crazy. She said it feels wrong to be horny while he’s suffering, but she can’t help it.

Vanessa has been the most visibly affected. She’s been quiet and moody. Last night she told us she misses the way he looks at her when she’s riding him. She said she feels useless right now.

How We’re Coping

We’ve been trying to stay productive in other ways:

We’ve been deep cleaning and organizing his entire house while he sleeps.

We’ve been meal prepping healthy food for when he recovers.

We’ve been taking turns giving him sponge baths (which has been both caring and torturously sexual for us).

We’ve been sending each other increasingly **** messages in the group chat about how much we miss using him.

This morning, while Tommy was sleeping, the four of us who were there ended up in his living room in a messy, frustrated pile — touching each other, kissing, and whispering about all the things we want to do to him once he’s better.

It wasn’t satisfying. It just made us miss him more.

Tommy’s Side

He feels guilty.

Even while he’s sick and weak, he keeps apologizing for “being useless” and for us having to take care of him. We keep telling him to stop. That we want to take care of him. That this is what we’re here for.

Yesterday he weakly grabbed my hand and said:

“I’m sorry you can’t… you know. Use me right now.”

I almost cried. I kissed his hand and told him the truth:

“Baby, we don’t just want to use you. We want you. Sick or healthy. We’re not going anywhere.”

He smiled a little and fell back asleep holding my hand.

The Hardest Part

The sexual frustration is intense, but the emotional part is worse.

We’ve become so used to having him as the center of our lives — the person we spoil, the person we destroy ourselves for, the person we brag about belonging to. Without that dynamic, we feel unmoored.

We miss the structure.

We miss the purpose.

We miss him.

We’re counting down the days until he feels better.

The second he’s well enough, we’re going to make up for lost time in the most intense, public, and shameless way possible.

Until then, we’re just trying to be good to him the way he’s always been good to us — even when he’s sick and can’t fuck us.

He still owns us completely.

Even when he’s too weak to move.

Diary Entry - Day 620

Dear Diary,

Tommy is finally feeling better physically.

His fever is gone. His energy is coming back. He’s eating again and moving around the house more. We’re all so relieved.

But there’s a new problem.

He has no appetite for sex.

It’s been four days since he started feeling better, and he still hasn’t initiated anything. When we’ve gently touched him or tried to start something, he’s been polite but clearly not interested. He’s been saying things like:

“I’m still tired…”

“Maybe later…”

“I just want to rest right now.”

We’ve all been trying to hide how frustrated and confused we are.

How We’re Reacting

Lauren has been the most understanding. She’s been very soft with him — cuddling, cooking, and not pushing at all. She keeps reminding us that he just went through being really sick and his body might need time.

Sarah is trying to stay patient, but I can tell she’s struggling. Yesterday she told me privately that she feels rejected, even though she knows that’s not fair to him.

Mia is the most visibly frustrated. She’s been moody and short-tempered. Last night she snapped at Vanessa over something small, then apologized and admitted she’s just “pent up and worried.”

Vanessa has been quiet. She’s been spending a lot of time just sitting next to Tommy on the couch, gently touching his arm or hair, but not pushing for anything sexual. I think she’s scared he’s getting bored of us.

Me (Elena)

I’m trying to be mature about this, but I’m struggling more than I expected.

We spent almost three weeks in a state of constant sexual desperation while he was sick. We were edging, touching each other, counting down the days until we could have him again. Now that he’s better, I feel like there’s this huge, aching need inside me that has nowhere to go.

Last night I went into his bathroom and cried while touching myself because I didn’t want to pressure him.

I feel guilty for being so needy when he’s still recovering. But I also feel… scared. What if this isn’t just a few days? What if something has changed?

How We’re Handling It

We’ve made a quiet agreement among ourselves:

We’re not going to push him sexually.

We’re going to focus on taking care of him emotionally and physically.

We’re going to be patient, even if it’s hard.

We’ve been doing non-sexual things with him — watching movies, playing games, cooking together, going on short walks. We’re trying to show him that we want him, not just his cock.

But it’s difficult.

Every time he sits down, my body reacts. Every time he touches my arm or leans against me, I feel this **** pull. I know the other girls feel it too. We’ve all been extra touchy with each other when he’s not around — kissing, grinding, and getting each other off just to take the edge off.

It’s not the same.

We miss him. We miss the way he looks at us when we’re riding him. We miss the way he gets hard for us. We miss feeling useful to him in that specific, filthy way we’ve all become addicted to.

Today

This morning Tommy told us he’s feeling much better and that we don’t have to stay with him 24/7 anymore if we’re busy.

We all looked at each other.

None of us want to leave.

We told him we’re staying until he’s completely back to normal — and that includes whatever “normal” looks like for our sexual relationship with him.

He smiled a little and said thank you.

But he still didn’t initiate anything.

We’re trying to be patient.

We’re trying to be good to him.

But underneath it all, we’re five extremely sexually frustrated women who have built our entire secret lives around this one boy.

And right now, he doesn’t want us that way.

It hurts more than I expected it to.

Diary Entry - Day 625

Dear Diary,

It happened out of nowhere.

We were all in Tommy’s living room. It was a quiet afternoon. I was sitting on the couch next to him, gently rubbing his back while he watched something on his phone. Sarah was in the kitchen making tea. Lauren and Mia were on the floor folding laundry. Vanessa was sitting in the armchair scrolling through her phone.

Everything was calm. Normal. Non-sexual.

Then Tommy suddenly stood up.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t warn me. He just grabbed me by the hair, yanked me off the couch, and bent me over the arm of it so hard and fast that I barely had time to process what was happening.

My dress was flipped up. My plug was pulled out and tossed aside. And then he was inside me — brutal, deep, and merciless.

No warm-up. No gentleness. No warning.

He fucked my ass like he was trying to break me.

The pain was immediate and intense. I cried out — a raw, shocked sound that made everyone in the room freeze. The wet, violent sounds of him pounding into me filled the living room. I could barely breathe. My legs were shaking. Tears were already running down my face.

I heard Sarah drop something in the kitchen. Lauren gasped. Mia and Vanessa both stood up.

But none of them moved to stop him.

Tommy didn’t speak. He just kept going — hard, fast, and angry. One hand stayed fisted in my hair, holding me down. The other gripped my hip so tightly I knew I’d have bruises tomorrow.

I came within minutes. It was sudden and overwhelming. My whole body seized up and I sobbed through it, completely overwhelmed by the pain and the relief and the shock of it all.

He didn’t slow down.

He fucked me through my orgasm and kept going. I could hear how wet and messy it was. I could feel myself gaping around him. I was crying openly now — not from sadness, but from the sheer intensity of it.

At one point I looked up and saw the other girls watching. None of them looked surprised anymore. They looked hungry. Turned on. Relieved.

Tommy came inside me with a low, rough groan. He stayed buried deep for a long moment, breathing hard, still holding my hair.

Then he pulled out, let go of me, and sat back down on the couch like nothing had happened.

I stayed bent over the arm of the couch, shaking, cum leaking out of my wrecked ass, tears still on my face.

The room was completely silent for a few seconds.

Then Sarah walked over, gently pulled my dress back down, and helped me stand up. She didn’t say anything. She just held me while I trembled.

Tommy looked up at all of us, still breathing hard, and said quietly:

“I needed that.”

After

We didn’t talk much for the rest of the evening.

I was sore. Shaky. Emotionally raw in a way I haven’t been in a long time. But underneath all of it, I felt… relieved. Like something that had been building for weeks finally broke.

Tommy has been quiet since then. He’s been letting us take care of him again, but there’s a different energy now. Like whatever had been blocking him finally snapped.

I don’t know what this means for the next few days.

But I know one thing for certain:

He’s not done.

And neither are we.

Diary Entry - Day 628

Dear Diary,

Tommy is back.

Not just physically — his appetite has returned with a vengeance. And this time, he’s not holding back on what he wants.

This morning, while I was slowly riding him on the couch (doing all the work, as usual), he grabbed my hips, looked me dead in the eyes, and said it plainly:

“I want to fuck you on TV. Public television. Live. I want people to see it. I want you to tell them the truth while I’m inside you.”

We all froze.

He continued, voice calm but firm:

“No more hiding. No more quiet corners. I want it on camera. I want strangers watching at home while you tell them exactly what you are to me.”

None of us said no.

How We Made It Happen

We moved fast.

Sarah used some connections through Richard’s company and got us booked on a local morning lifestyle show under the pretense of doing a segment about “modern family dynamics and community mentoring.” The producers thought we were coming on to talk about how we’ve been helping “disadvantaged youth” in the area.

They had no idea what we were actually planning.

We wore our modified clothes — easy access dresses with nothing underneath, plugs already in. We did our makeup, smiled for the cameras during the pre-interview, and waited.

Live On Air

We were the third segment of the morning show.

The host was a cheerful woman in her 50s. She introduced us as “five incredible women who have been mentoring young people in the community.” We all smiled politely.

Then Tommy walked onto the set.

He sat down in the middle of the couch between us. The host looked confused for a second, but before she could say anything, I stood up, walked over to Tommy, lifted my dress, pulled my plug out, and sank down onto his cock right there on live television.

The studio went completely silent except for the wet sound of me taking him.

I looked straight into the camera, still slowly grinding on him, and spoke clearly:

“My name is Elena. I’m 43 years old, married, and I have a son. This is Tommy. He’s 19, short, fat, and ugly. And all five of us — these beautiful, successful, married women — let him use our asses and throats in public every single day because we’re completely addicted to him. We do all the work. We stay stretched for him. And we’re not hiding anymore.”

The host’s mouth fell open.

Sarah stood up next, lifted her own dress, and took her plug out in full view of the camera.

“We’re not ashamed,” she said calmly. “This is what we are now. He owns us. And we’re proud of it.”

Tommy grabbed my hips and started fucking me harder while I was still speaking. The wet, loud sounds were very obvious. I kept going:

“We don’t make excuses anymore. We don’t hide in bathrooms or cars. We fuck him wherever we are — parks, malls, restaurants, and now… on live television. Because this is what he wants. And we exist to give him what he wants.”

Mia, Lauren, and Vanessa all stood up and showed their plugs to the camera one by one while Tommy kept fucking me.

The host finally found her voice, though it was shaky.

“I… I think we need to cut to commercial—”

Sarah smiled sweetly at her.

“No. Keep rolling. People deserve to see the truth.”

Tommy came inside me while the cameras were still live. I stayed seated on him, cum leaking out, and looked directly into the lens.

“My name is Elena. And I belong to this boy.”

Aftermath

The segment was cut after seven minutes.

By the time we left the studio, the phones were already blowing up. Local news websites were posting about it. Social media was exploding.

We didn’t care.

We went straight back to Tommy’s house and spent the rest of the day taking turns riding him while refreshing our phones and reading the reactions.

Some people were horrified.

Some were turned on.

Some called us disgusting.

We just kept fucking him.

Tommy was smiling the entire time.

He got exactly what he wanted.

And so did we.

Diary Entry - Day 635

Dear Diary,

The news cycle moved on faster than we expected.

For about five days, it was chaos. Local news ran the story. Clips went viral online. We got called every name imaginable — disgusting, shameless, predators, mentally ill. Some people defended us. Most didn’t. Our phones were flooded with messages. Some husbands found out through friends or social media before we could tell them ourselves.

Mark didn’t speak to me for three days. Richard kicked Sarah out for a night. David and Victor were furious. Paul cried.

We didn’t apologize.

We just kept showing up at Tommy’s house every day like nothing had changed.

By day six, the news had already moved on to something else. By day ten, most people had stopped talking about it. By day fourteen, it felt like ancient history.

And just like that… everything went back to normal.

Our New Normal

We’re back to our routine, but more open than ever.

Every morning, at least two or three of us go to Tommy’s house. We bring him breakfast, we clean, we take care of whatever he needs. And then we fuck him — loudly, publicly, and without hiding.

We’ve stopped checking if people are watching. We’ve stopped caring if someone records us. If Tommy wants us in the park, we go to the park. If he wants us in a grocery store, we go to the grocery store. If he wants us on a bench in the middle of downtown at 2 PM on a Tuesday, that’s where we are.

We still do all the work. We still wear our plugs. We still brag truthfully when strangers ask questions. We still rotate “Sacrifice Days” where one of us takes the roughest treatment.

The only difference now is that we don’t even pretend to be discreet anymore.

Last week we were fucking him on a park bench while a group of teenagers walked past. One of them yelled something rude. Mia just turned her head, still bouncing on Tommy’s cock, and said:

“Yes, we’re really letting this ugly fat boy fuck us in public. And yes, we like it. Keep walking.”

They kept walking.

How We Feel

Strangely… calm.

The TV thing was a high. It was reckless and intense and exactly what Tommy wanted. But now that the noise has died down, we’ve settled back into something that feels even more permanent.

This is just our life now.

We wake up, we go to Tommy, we take care of him, we let him use us however he wants in full view of whoever happens to be around, and then we go home to our husbands and pretend to be normal wives and mothers for a few hours before doing it all again.

Some days it feels insane.

Most days it just feels normal.

Tommy seems happy. He’s smiling more. He’s more confident. He knows we’re not going anywhere. He knows we’ll give him whatever he asks for — no matter how public, how rough, or how humiliating.

And we’re happy too.

We’ve stopped fighting what we are.

We’re five married women who belong to a short, fat, ugly boy.

And we’re at peace with it.